


Swirls in the Mountains

by orphan_account



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/M, Hiking, Nonbinary Amami Rantaro, Painting, u can read this as platonic or romantic idc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rantaro and Angie go hiking.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro & Yonaga Angie, Amami Rantaro/Yonaga Angie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Swirls in the Mountains

Being an artist and adventurer, two very different mediums, you’d think Angie and Rantaro would have trouble finding things to do together. Oddly enough, they didn’t.

They usually went on hiking up cliffs, which gave Angie scenic spots to paint (though she never painted the scenes. She just kind of used it as “inspiration” only for it to turn into something completely different. What that something was depended on the interpretation of the audience). And the exercise helped Rantaro when they went on their adventures to find their sisters.

Having hiked up this absurdly tall and steep hill (half of the hiking was just her partner carrying her), Angie was setting up her painting supplies--minimal things: just a paint brush, easel, and some paints she carried in her backpack--and beginning to paint. What, exactly, Rantaro couldn’t tell you. Neither could Angie, for that matter. Currently, it was a mix of swirls of green and red and orange and blue. By all means, it should’ve been the ugliest thing ever. But somehow it came across as beautiful. Odd, by all means, but definitely the talent of the Ultimate Artist.

Rantaro was gazing out over the cliff. Seeing the ocean always filled them with serenity, for one reason or another. They never truly knew why, but maybe it was the fact that they never really knew what was out (or in) there. The waves always made them calm, as least. 

As they looked out, and Angie painted, a sudden thought hit them. It was very dumb, but hey, they were dumb, too.

“Hey, Angie?” Rantaro called to the artist. She perked up immediately, despite the fact that if literally anybody else called to her, it would take her hours to respond, if she responded at all.

“Yes, Amataro?” Her accent was thick, though Rantaro was easily able to tell what she was saying.

“If I jumped off this cliff, do you think it would hurt?”

Angie didn’t even hesitate as she replied, still coating the paint brush and beginning to smear it onto the canvas as she spoke. “I do think so, yes.”

“...Do you dare me to jump off the cliff?”

Angie simpered, picking the blue paint out of her coat and squirting it onto the canvas, swirling it with the other colors. The canvas was beginning to turn into a brown that matched that of Rantaro’s childhood cat. “Do it. You won’t. Coward.”

Rantaro returned the look before looking down the cliff, nudging a rock with their foot and watching it fall; it landed with an echoed noise not too far afterwards. Well, it wasn’t that far of a drop, and plus, their best friend was the voice of God, so they’d be fine. Probably. So they went for it.

Angie turned her focus back to the painting, thinking Rantaro was only joking when they said they were going to jump. She looked up again after what felt a moment to her (it was more like half an hour) to see that they weren’t standing by the cliff. Thinking they just went on a stroll nearby, she shrugged it off and went back to her painting, which was now excepionally surreal and somewhat fell into uncanny valley. Very Angie.

“Mmmm...looking good, Sunshine.” A lock of her paint-stained hair was pushed behind her ear.

Angie twirled around to see a particular green haired partner behind, unscathed. “Ah, Amataro. You’re back! How was your walk about the cliff?”

“Huh? What walk around the cliff?”

“That’s what you were doing! Atua has told me so!” Angie smiled one of her cat-like smiles and beamed, completely assured of herself.

“No? I jumped off the cliff like you dared me to. I spent the past, what-” Rantaro looked to the sky, which was now a vibrant pink. Sunset. “-hour or so climbing back up? I got lost a couple times so that didn’t help me at all.”

Angie blinked. “...You what.”

Rantaro put their hand behind their head and looked off to the side to avoid the artist’s dagger-like eyes. “I mean, you dared me to do it.”

Angie continued to blink, obviously a bit shocked if the adventurer bothered to look at her. Though that confusion suddenly turned to a smile as she hugged them. Rantaro’s arms awkwardly shot up. “You’re so dumb, you know that?” She squeezed their torso, causing them to suck in a breath and hope this lasted them until Angie let go. “You could’ve been seriously hurt! And then what would I do? I can’t just ask Atua to bring you back, you daft, inconsiderate fool!” She scolded.

Rantaro thought of a tease (something like “guess your god isn’t all-powerful, huh?”) before wisely deciding against it. “...Oh. Yeah, guess you couldn’t, huh?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t!” Angie was furiously darting around them, now, probably to check for any damage. Oddly enough, they were scratch free, and their hair had fallen back into place as it always did, aside from a stray twig or two that had found itself lodged in the mess of curls. She’s using ‘I’ now, Rantaro noted.

“I--I’m sorry, Angie, I thought it would it would be funny. I didn’t know you’d feel so...upset by it. I apologize.”

“Just--just don’t do it again, okay? Atua can’t fix everything…” Angie began to pout as she crouched and started to pack up her paints.

“...Yeah, okay. Can I help?” Rantaro looked over her shoulder, seeing that her stuff was a mess.

“...” Angie nodded. The two packed up the paint in silence; Angie made sure Rantaro wasn’t able to see her painting. Rantaro sat brewing in their thoughts of how to thoroughly apologize as they picked up scattered and discarded paint tubes. Wow, Angie used a lot of colors. It was kind of impressive.

The hike down the slope was awkward. Angie wasn’t having them carry her. It was strange to just be able to walk without the added weight of the artist (though it wasn’t a lot; she was exceptionally skinny. Too skinny, even). Rantaro had given up trying to start a conversation. But it was fine.

As they headed back to Angie’s lab to drop off the painting, Rantaro took their chance. “I really am sorry, Angie,” they said, looking her straight in the eye.

“Thank you, Amataro.” She darted into her lab, slamming the door in their face. Rantaro stood for a minute, soaking it in, when a note was slipped under the door. They looked around, and took the note. In Angie’s big, loopy handwriting, it read:

I enjoy our adventures.

An odd acception of their apology, but very Angie.

**Author's Note:**

> i like rangie and not a lot of other ppl do so *cracks knuckles* ill do the dirty work myself  
> i wrote this like a month ago so if its crappy that's what happened lmao (i cant write endings)


End file.
